


Connected

by roselightsaber



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, stuff I should have left on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9453689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roselightsaber/pseuds/roselightsaber
Summary: a fluffy touchy-feely moment





	

“You taste so good,” Chirrut purrs, under the haze of the moment, hardly thinking before he speaks. But, oh, does he mean it, as he plants another wet, open-mouthed kiss to the pulse point at Baze’s neck, for that moment more than anything else in the galaxy.

“Mm?” Baze is pleasantly distracted, but this piques his curiosity nonetheless. “What do I taste like?”

“Like you, of course.” Sometimes Baze almost forgets he can’t see – Chirrut is so adept at mapping his way to Baze’s most sensitive spots. He kisses across his throat, to which Baze makes the unintentionally meaningful gesture of tilting his head back, prone, until Chirrut is nibbling at his ear on the other side.

“I never thought about it,” He admits, though the words come slow and choppy thanks to the attention he’s receiving – and to his _ears_ , that he used to be so self-conscious of, that he would have balked at even Chirrut touching just a year or two ago. Now he’s content (well, a bit more than content) to let the other nip at him, suck at his earlobes, lavish all manner of affection on him. And Chirrut responds with an eagerness that nearly knocks him out sometimes.

“Ah, my precious sighted person never considered his other senses.” Baze is fairly sure Chirrut rolls his eyes, though it’s hard to tell. “I’m flattered that my looks are so distracting to you. But I’ll try harder to stand out in your other senses, too.”

Baze just chuckles. This kind of scolding is nothing new and, in all honesty, he deserves it now and then. Chirrut got used to his own blindness far more quickly than Baze; he’s still learning to make adjustments to their everyday life to accommodate the new challenge, and that includes these intimate moments. “I consider some of them,” He insists, and honestly. “Touch has never been a problem for us, right?” He receives exactly the knowing little laugh from Chirrut he’d been aiming for. “And I’ve always said I like how you sound, too.”

“That’s true,” Chirrut concedes, nuzzling the sensitive spot behind that jug-handle ear on which he’d been focused. “You’re no stranger to tasting me, though. I’m a little offended that I haven’t made an impression.”

“You’ve always been more sensitive,” Baze answers, halfway between teasing and truth. He runs broad hands over Chirrut’s chest to emphasize at least the latter. “I still appreciate you.”

“That’s–” He arches into his touch. Baze _knows_ him, in more senses of the word than he’d previously thought possible. “That _may_  be true.”

“Maybe,” Baze laughs, tilting his head to _finally_  claim the other’s lips. “Just maybe, my little bird.”

That’s a nickname from many, many years ago, and it pulls a hearty laugh from Chirrut. “Do you still think me so flighty?”

“Not nearly,” Baze murmurs, with no shortage of amusement. “But you’re still a precious creature to me.”

Chirrut shivers a little, and Baze gathers him up more closely, securely in his arms against his chest. “My Baze,” He whispers, simple words heavy with meaning. “I miss seeing you with my eyes, but…” Baze interrupts him with a soft kiss but it seems only to strengthen the resolve of his words rather than to trip him up. “But it’s not so important, is it?”

It’s worded like a question, but Baze knows it’s not that, exactly – it’s sharing something, where the only confirmation needed is that Baze understands that he’s trying to vocalize an unnameable _something_  that they both already understand. So he just hums an affirmative and kisses him again. “Sight doesn’t mean so much to me. The only thing I need to see in this whole world is you. And that – I can see you with or without my eyes. That’s how it is for you, right?”

“Right.”

“Because we’re…” Baze searches for the right words, and that alone is enough to bring a wistful smile to Chirrut’s face. This man was once a boy who didn’t speak at all, who had slowly started to open up to Chirrut and Chirrut alone, who had been hurt too deeply by his past to bother with conversation. And he was trying his hardest to _tell_ Chirrut how much he meant, even if both of them already know so, so deeply. “We’re connected. Always.”

“Always,” Chirrut agrees. “In all things. Senses or no senses.”

“I have no senses when it comes to you.”

“Don’t get smart,” Chirrut laughs. “Now come here – I want to make sure you have senses. And that they’re all for me.”


End file.
